Little Sphinx
Lying in bed
Reading Ogden Nash.
Book held high, over
My little sphinx.
Rambling rhythms fall from my mouth,
Broken.
“I don’t get it.”
The doves understand well enough,
And laugh at a double entendre,
Or maybe they’re laughing at me.
Rambling rhythms come once again,
“Ahh – now I see,”
A little smoother.
But as tired eyes and tired arms
Begin to fall,
I close the book
And take one last look
At my little sphinx.
I close my eyes,
Listening to the doves
And the rhythmic purring of
My little sphinx,
Sleeping on my lap
With a little white feather on his nose.
In Mother's Closet
My father lives within my mother's closet.
A protector overlooking his family?
No -- just relaxing.
He was pushed onto the far shore and is sitting on a muddy bank,
Just relaxing and watching the stream flow by.
Should he be asked, what would his answer be?
"My only real regret? --
That I was unable to be old with her."
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Submission Name: LittleSphinx & InMothersCloset
